C'est La Vie
by JonSnow
Summary: Well here's another figurative Spike story, hopefully somebody likes the style. Its in five parts, and I'm trying to bring a dark noir film style to this with some romance and alot of action in the 3rd and 4th parts. Enjoy.
1. You Can't Always Get What You Want

**Home Coming  
  
_Part One- C'est La Vie_**  
  
Spike Spiegel sat back and took a long drag off his Marb red cigarette, savoring the calmness it brought him. Calm, now there's a word that would describe my life, he thought wryly to himself. He sat and smoked and reflected for the thousandth time on his recent past. He was sitting in his boxers and any observer would note his lean but muscular build, but they would also notice that for a young man, he had a hell of alot of scars, burns and what looked like old gunshot wounds. Indeed, his life had been anything but calm, and he had knocked on heaven's door far too many times. He had thought the last battle was truly the last he would fight, but as always life had proved him wrong. He couldn't help but feel intensely bitter. What was the point? All his life he had searched for a meaning of his existence....and he had thought he had found it in Julia. But life was never easy and the happy life he'd dreamed of with her had never been in the cards. Vicious, the Red Dragons, and everything else had been enough to keep them separated. Then a stray shot from a thug of Vicious's had put an end to any dreams that he had ever held of a happy life. He had gone into the Dragon's compound with nothing to live for but to extract one final revenge on those that had ruined his chances of happiness. Spike had thought then that all that was left for him was to die, and take Vicious down with him. And so it had seemed he had succeeded, and as Spike fell on the steps inside of the Red Dragon compound, he had felt the darkness descend on him, and had thought This is it.  
  
Only it hadn't been, much to his disappointment. Many of the Dragons had looked to Spike as a possible leader, and with Vicious dead the Spike loyalists among them had quickly taken charge of the situation. A bullet to the heart had proved fatal to Vicious, but Spike's wound was not immediatly deadly. Spike's wound was a very deep cut across his chest, and the main threat to his life had been blood loss. The Red Dragons had access to some of the finest medical equipment and doctors in the system, and they had quickly put those facilities to use. If Spike had been conscious, he would have told them to not even bother.  
  
He remembered little of that time period, nothing but brief memories of a hospital bed and ceiling. He fully came to about a week and a half after his showdown with Vicious. He had truly never felt so shitty in all his life.   
  
Spike paused his flow of memory, and lit another cigarette. He looked around the sparse and shabby hotel room. He got up and fixed himself a screwdriver, plopped back down into his chair and resumed his thinking.  
  
After he had spent some time recovering in the hospital, Spike was approached by various faction leaders within the Dragons. Many wanted him to return and take up leadership. Spike however, would have none of it. Before he had considered himself a living dead man....now he felt that was even more true. Just when he thought his pain and emptiness could not be more complete, life had shown him otherwise. Spike had called a meeting of the Dragons as soon as he was able to get around on his own. He told the gathering of leaders that he was done with the syndicate, and that they should all consider him dead. He vowed that he would never again interfere in Red Dragon business, and also had sworn that none of the secrets he knew would ever be revealed to the ISSP. He had known at the time that many of the Dragon's would try to kill him anyway, just to be safe, but at the same time he welcomed it. Let them try, he thought. Not that he would really mind dying.  
  
He left the city and had come here, to this shabby little hotel by the seaside. He'd been here almost six months. His life was a steady routine of reflection, smoking, and drinking. The first day he had arrived at the hotel he had sat in his bed and loaded his Jericho pistol. He held it to his head.It would be so easy....he thought. An end to everything, and end to the dream that had become a nightmare. He tried to think of reasons not to pull the trigger, and as usual came up with nothing. Julia, dead... the Bebop crew scattered.....and more than likely hating his guts for his leaving them or thinking him a dead man. In the end, Spike had either lost or found his courage and lowered the gun. He could not decide which it was. After awhile he thought he knew why he couldn't do it. All his life, against everything and everyone, Spike had fought. He had fought with all his heart and all his passion, even when there was nothing left to win. He guessed he had come too far along now to take the easy way out.   
  
So there he sat in his underwear, drink in hand and puffing on his cancer stick. The question of course, was what now? He had been pondering that for six months and still had come up with nothing. Six months of drinking and pondering. He spent most of that time thinking about three events. The first memory was of Julia, always Julia. Godamn it... how he had loved her. He didn't think he could ever describe in words how much he had loved her, nor could he describe the feelings she had given to him. He hated it so very badly that she had died. Spike had spent all his life looking for someone like her, and then she had died, and now what was left for him?. His dreams of her haunted him, and no amount of booze could seem to dispel her from his mind. He figured he deserved this torture. After all, he was the one that failed her. If only he had been a little faster, he could have shot that bastard before he shot Julia. Without her, where was the meaning in his life? All the rest of it seemed petty and useless when held up to the fact that his other half was dead and buried.  
  
Another memory he spent alot of time with was the final meeting with Vicious. Vicious, a man that Spike had once felt was his best friend. How twisted things had become. Naturally it had been a woman that split them apart so bitterly. Still, Spike took some small satisfaction from their last contact. He loved to recall and savor that last look in that wicked bastard's eyes as his gun put a bullet in that black heart of his. What Spike didn't like to recall was the little part about V's katana slashing a hell of cut across his chest. Or the fact that killing Vicious hadn't made Julia reappear.  
  
The last memory he tortured himself with was the final parting he had had with Jet and Faye. Jet....he had come to realize, was probably the best and truest friend he'd ever had. And Spike had never reallly appreciated it or recognized it. He knew now that Jet had looked at him as part son and part brother, and now Spike realized how much it must have hurt him to see Spike leave. Jet had of course told him to go and face his past, but Spike knew now that Jet had only said that for his sake. He wondered what Jet was doing now. Probably still on the prowl for bounties, tending his bonzai's, cooking shitty food and thinking of the good ole' days. Spike knew that Jet was probably lonely. He never admitted it, but secretly Jet had loved having Spike, Ed, Faye and Ein on his ship. What else did Jet really have besides his friends to keep him going? Spike also found himself thinking of Ed, and how she was doing with that crazy father of hers. Must run in the family.  
  
Thinking of Jet of course lead him to think of Faye. He remembered her crying in pain, firing her gun into the air, as he left for what he thought was his doom. It all seemed pretty clear to him now. He had always thought of Faye as kind of a sisterly rival, an annoying and pompous little brat. Pretty much every convo they had ever had had been an argument or shouting match, and two people could hardly seem anymore different. Yet he realized now that at the very end....Could it be that Faye had had feelings for him? Even love? It seemed obvious to him now, in hindsight. All the looks, the expressions...he had missed all of them at the time. Too hell bent on revenge, too dazed and in love with Julia to notice the little details. But now....surely any feeligns she had for him were gone by now. Surely she must hate his guts for leaving. And what was more....how could Spike even think of another woman- the only woman he had ever wanted was dead. It would be the grossest betrayal to care about anyone else. His days of love were over, he thought to himself. Still....there was something about Faye...that vulnerability...that fiery spirit, not to mention that unbelievable body- that lead Spike to wonder about her despite his misgivings.  
  
He liked to fantasize about going back to the Bebop. His dreams of this always fell into two catergories. In the one version the gang all reacted with joy at his return, the other with disgust and anger. Spike wasn't even sure which he would prefer. Hell, he wasn't even sure he wanted to go back to the Bebop. Again, what was the fucking point?! He sighed heavily.  
  
Spike heard footsteps approaching his door, then stop in front of his room. He made sure his Jericho was at the ready, and paused, listening. Perhaps it was just the maid, he thought. At that moment the shabby wooden door of the hotel exploded inward, and three goons in cheap black suits burst into them room. Spike, though a bit tanked , had a big advantage in having his gun already in hand, ready to go if any suicidal urges griped him. Three loud shots rang out, and three heavy bodies hit the floor. Only one of them had even got a shot off. Indeed, Spike had thought he was a dead man when the guy had fired at him, after all how could he miss at this range?. He turned around in his chair and saw a smoking bullet hole in the wall behind him. Once again, death had missed him by about a quarter of an inch. He sighed again. Damn these fucking bastards for wrecking his bender! He supposed this meant he had to move on. Someone in the Dragons was tidying up loose ends, and Spike decided right then and there that he only really wanted to die if he himself was pulling the trigger.  
  
He got up off his seat and slowly donned his traditional suit and tie. The attack had decided him. He couldn't stay here any longer, since it was clear someone wanted him dead, and Spike didn't really feel like hiding the bodies or cleaning up the place. The room wasn't nice enough anyways. He couldn't just mope around and drink anymore...he knew that now. And if he couldn't bring himself to end his own life, what did that leave? Though Spike dreaded it, he knew he could do only one thing: go back to the Bebop and see what awaited him there, despite the pain and difficulty that would come with it. After all, they were the only thing he had left, with love and revenge long gone.

Part 2 Coming Soon


	2. TwelveBar Blues

Part Two   
  
Twelve-Bar Blues  
  
Spike leaned against the concrete wall, puffing on the ever-present cigarette, searching the dockyards through a pair of combination glasses-binoculars. There it was, he thought. Spike had made a few calls to some old associates, and with a little investigation and little illegal hacking it hadn't taken too long to find the location of the Bebop. In fact, it was only about five hours after the little scrap at the hotel. Spike had been starring at the old ship for a little over and hour. For some reason he could not will his feet to move. Seeing the Bebop, bobbing gently in the blue waters was such an old and familiar scene that Spike found himself overcome with memories of the past. He laughed to himself, thinking of all the arguements, the fights, the crappy food, then the endless quest to avoid starvation and find a quick and easy bounty. One memory came back to him vividly, when Jet had declared the main rec area of the Bebop smoke free- to impress a certain little cutie if Spike remembered correctly- a rule that had lasted about all of an hour's time. There were a hundred other memories, enough that he could have spent all day recalling them, but Spike realized this revere was just a delay he was causing for himself, to avoid the unpleasant task ahead. They always say "You Can't Go Home Again" he said to himself with a sardonic smile. Well, Spike loved nothing more than to prove people wrong, so here he was.  
  
He folded up the field glasses, crushed out his cig underneath his shoe, then started walking towards the ship, hands jammed in pockets and shoulders hunched as always. By the time he reached the Bebop he'd had two more smokes, and felt sufficiently relaxed enough to go ahead. Spike checked his Jericho- he couldn't be sure what would happen when he strolled in. Then cautiously he approached the bulkhead door and knocked three times. Before, he had considered just flying over in the Swordfish II, but he'd decided to come in on foot. He was also reluctant to fly around town in the easily-identifiable craft, knowing that the Red Dragons were surely on tracking his ass.  
  
Spike waited a while, then knocked again. With his luck he might have to stand there all day. Another minute went by and suddenly the door snapped open, and there stood Jet Black. He looked pretty much the same...though perhaps he was a little older looking, a little sadder...Spike thought to himself. He was wearing his usual attire, and Spike noted he was wearing his dark shades, so he must have been cooking. Jet's mouth dropped, and the thin black cigar he had been puffing on fell to the ground. Spike stood there for a moment, the silence and shock that yawned between them overwhelming him. Of all the ways Spike had thought Jet might react, from casual indifference to a fast punch to the face, a hug was one response he had never considered. Nevertheless, with a roaring cry of "SPIKE-O!!!" Jet wrapped the slender young man in a bone-crushing bear hug. Spike squirmed a bit but finally gave in. Just as he started to relax, Jet threw him roughly to the hard metal deck of the Bebop. Spike bounced a couple times on his ass, and shouted at Jet angrily   
  
"Hey what the hell Jet?!"   
  
"I was pretty damn glad to see you Spike my boy, but then I remembered how you left last time. Sorry...." Jet trailed off, and awkwardly helped Spike to his feet. The two stared at each other a moment, and Spike was unsure what to do or say. He could tell that Jet was nervous, and both angry and happy to see him. Spike started to say "Jet...I..." when Jet cut him off abruptly "I figured you were dead Spike!...All my sources back in the ISSP claimed both you and Vicious were dead, and I even saw that explosion you set off all the way back here!". Jet paused, looked Spike in the eyes, and asked "So what happened, and if you're really not a ghost were the hell have you been all this time?!" Spike gave him his old grin and replied "Why Jet, I've just been sitting around, pondering, and thinking alot". Jet just starred at him in response. Often in the past Jet had told Spike he was too impulsive, to thought-less, a man that ran only on instincts. It took Jet a moment to realize Spike was playing on those old jokes of his. He gave a hearty chuckle, slapped Spike on the back and led him into the Bebop.  
  
"Let's sit down, have a drink, and then you're gonna tell me everything that's happened to you", said Jet as he lead Spike into the Bebop's living room. Perhaps nothing has really changed, thought Spike. The Bebop certainly looked much the same, if only looking a little more worse for wear.   
  
Spike sat down on the old couch, and Jet disappeared into the kitchen. He came back after a moment, a steaming plate of some sort of noodles in one hand, and a six pack of godawful Callisto beer in the other. Jet set both down before him, and sat across from him with a satified plop. Though Spike realized he missed many things about life on the Bebop, eating noodles day after day was not one of them. Nevertheless, he dug into his food, knowing the pleasure Jet got out of feeding hungry people. Spike paused in between a swig of the beer, looked at Jet and asked "Where's Faye? and have you heard anything from that little girl we used to keep around here?". Jet's expression immediatly shifted into a frown, and when he spoke his words came out slowly and painfully. "Spike....when you took off...Faye stayed around maybe a whole week. You know how restless that crazy woman is! Once I'd confirmed the rumors I'd heard through the ISSP, we both figured you for dead Spike...And with you gone, Edward, and even little Ein...it felt like a broke home Spike. Just me and her, all alone in the Bebop, with nothing but the spectres of our comrades around us. I guess we both figured we'd rather be alone and miserable than together and miserable...know what I mean Spike?", Jet asked. Spike was surprised. He had never really thought that the rest of the crew really would miss him, or that his leaving the ship could so change the situation. Spike leaned forward "Jet...answer me honestly for once, did you ever have.....you know....feelings for Faye?" Jet leaned back, a bit startled by Spike's forward manner and question. Spike watched him closely, to see if he would be honest or try to lie. Jet sat still awhile then finally answered him. "Maybe a long time ago, for a brief moment I thought about her in the manner you're implying, but that never lasted that long....", Jet trailed off. "Well why didn't it last then Jet? Why didn't you make a move?" prompted Spike. He was surprised when Jet grew angry and yelled at him "If you didn't have your head up your ass trying to see the past all the time, you might have noticed she was a little more than interested in you!!". Spike sighed heavily, sat back in his seat, fished out a fresh cig and lit up. So, his ideas about Faye had been on target. He felt a wave of sadness come over him...how blind had he been to all that was going on around him? As he himself had said once to Faye he always had one eye on the past....so Spike supposed that meant he was always missing half of the present.  
  
Jet sipped his beer and watched Spike closely, who was obviously going through some inner debate. For all the pain and trouble Spike had brought into his life, Jet knew deep down how much he liked the kid, how glad he was to learn he that Spike was alive. Jet was a solitary man by nature, but in empitiness of space any human being would come to yearn for the comfort of human contact. Spike had been the first of the crew to join him on the Bebop, and as time went by Jet had come to enjoy his company, lazy and sarcastic as it was, and also had come to respect Spike for his heart, and his fighting prowess. Jet knew he could be angry, he could demand that Spike leave, he could pretend to not give a damn, but in the end he decided that was all an act, a self-deception. He decided that he was going to take his cue's from Spike, and together maybe they could begin to repair and replace the damages of the past.  
  
"Jet"  
  
"Huh?"   
  
"I'm.....I'm sorry. For all the things left unsaid...and for not seeing all that I should have. This is your ship and you gave me a place to stay and food to put in my stomach..back when I had nothing or anyone to go to.I don't think I ever thanked you for that." Spike said softly.  
  
Jet was more than a bit surprised. An apology was a rare event were Spike was concerned, and the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes touched Jet in there sincerity. "It's okay buddy, its okay," he murmured in response.  
  
"So where do you think Faye is? what about Ed?" Spike asked.  
  
Jet paused and said. "Huh?...Well I imagine Ed's back on old Earth with that crazy Applederry guy, remember the one that kicked your butt Spike-0 ?"   
  
"Yeah I remember!", shot back Spike, with some heat.  
  
"Hmmn,...and Faye... Well Spike let me just tell you when we finally gave up any hope of you being alive, Faye...Went a little crazy...She told me that she didn't realize it until the moment you took off for the last time..but Spike, she love's you! I guess you being dead was the final straw...You know how sensitive she is beneath the bitchiness!" Jet spread his hands out wide, as if to indicate he would never understand that woman, and there was little he could tell Spike about the workings of Faye's heart and mind.  
  
This was one topic Spike had wanted to avoid. While he felt a strong desire to be back with everyone on the Bebop, he still felt that he needed time before he dvelved into anything deeper. Anything having to do with his heart...he didn't feel like he was ready to deal with those wounds, if he ever would be ready. This idea of Faye caring for him still seemed a little unreal to him. His mind went back to another distant memory. He had been all wrapped in bandages- the results of a beating at the hands of Vicious. Faye had been singing for him...singing in a tune that reminded him of another time, another battle...and another woman. Before he'd never really thought about the similarities of the situations, but now there seemed to be something both fitting and ironic to Faye's taking care of him. He also recalled how he had told her her singing was way off key, and how she had slammed him with a pillow, sending feathers everywhere. At the time, it had hurt like hell and he'd wanted to get up and smack her one, but now he gave out a long chuckle at the memory.  
  
Jet looked at him strangely, and Spike said "Just remembering a good memory..Say, Jet where do you think Faye may have gone?"  
  
Jet paused a moment, lit a smoke, took a pull of his brew and replied, "Well you know her as well as I do Spike, so we better bust out our best suits and hit the casinos!". Spike gave him a slight smile "Got any money?" he asked. Jet frowned- "Shit no...I was hoping the mighty leader of the syndicate could pick up the tab." Spike laughed and told Jet, "Never was the leader Jet, now or then. And I never really wanted to be one either" Jet laughed now too, and said to Spike in a wistful tone, "You know me and you Spike my man....always have been, always will be-nothing but a coupla of broke-ass space cowboys. "  
  
Spike surprised Jet by looking him seriously in the eye. "I know now I wouldn't have it any other way Jet", he said softly.  
  
"Yeah, me either buddy," Jet sighed back.  
  
Part 3 "Reelin' in the Years" Coming Soon...Spike and Jet go looking for a bounty, three lost friends and Lady Luck . 


End file.
